A Simple Question
by DuchessEliza
Summary: severitus, darker than my previous story, but still quite fluffy.


A Question

A young boy was making his way across the school grounds, his ebony hair streaming in the wind, catching in his glasses, and obscuring the greenest of eyes. He was on the way to the hut of Hagrid, the Hogwarts groundkeeper, whom he had decided he could trust, since he had rescued him from the Dursleys.

"Hagrid?"

"M' over ere 'arry "

"You said you knew my parents. Is there anyone else who I could talk to? To find out more, I mean?" he enquired tentatively, for he was afraid to be asking too much.

"Wull, y' culd talk t' professor mc'gonogal about y' dad arry, 'e was t' star o' 'er 'ouses quidditch 'e was!"

"Yeah, I've talked to McGonagall-"

"-Professor McGonagall, arry!-"

"- yes; I talked to her, but what about my mum? No one says anything but that she loved my father and me very much!" he spat "Didn't anyone know her before she married him?"

"uh...wull...I s'pose y' culd ask pr'fessor Snape, arry. E' knew yer mum once. Though I'm not sure e'd wan-"

"Thanks Hagrid! I haven't had him yet, I hope he won't mind me talking to me!"

And off he ran, forgetting all that the twins had told him of the potions master.

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"no running in the halls!" grouched Argus filch, resident caretaker, armed with a cat and an uncanny sense of exactly when people really didn't need to be caught.

"Sorry!" cried Harry happily, as he was far too exited to sound properly sorry.  
>But he did slow down, as he was running out of breath and it took him ten minutes to find the office in the dank dungeons, by which time he had calmed down enough to find himself apprehensive. What if this man did not want to talk about his mum, like aunt petunia?<p>

"Don't wanna upset him before my first lesson" he mumbled, unawares of having spoken.

"What's that boy?"

A glance at the famous scar, and back to looking down his nose at Harry, though curiously, avoiding looking at his eyes for any length of time.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, come to suck up to the evil dungeon bat before class?"

"No sir! I wanted to ask-"

"Detention, Mr. Potter, for your arrogance. Tomorrow at six. Do not be late!"

"But Sir I-"

"now make your way to the great hall before I am forced to give you another detention, boy!"

Harry winced, and scuttled away as fast as he could. He hated being called boy; it reminded him so much of uncle Vernon.

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"Wwsalatbtary?" asked Ron, through what probably counted as more than one mouthful of food.

"Honestly Ronald, I'm surprised you don't choke!" Hermione interjected

Ron rolled his eyes and Harry decided it was best to get in the way now, rather than risk getting in the way at some later date, when there was sure to be a fight at the way these two were going.

"What were you saying, Ron?" he interrupted

"I said-" a glare to Hermione at this point "- what was all that about, Harry?"

"What?"

"I said-"

"-I heard what you said! I meant, what was what all about?"

"You, running in late, looking petrified, with the great git of the dungeon on your tail!"

"Ronald! He is a teacher!"

"He's still a git, Herman!"

"That is not my name!"

"Well my name isn't Ronald!"

Harry sighed. At least they were both distracted, although there was definitely going to be a fistfight soon. That or a wedding.

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"Ah, Mr. Potter, how nice of you to join me, finally." drawled professor Snape as Harry entered the dungeon office timidly.

"But sir, it's just gone six!" Harry protested

"exactly, Mr. Potter. Just gone six. You are precisely thirty seconds late. And another detention tomorrow for your cheek!" Snape retaliated viciously.

Harry's detention was to scrub caldrons with a toothbrush until he had repaired all the damage done by what appeared to be an older version of Neville, judging by the mutters emitted by the potions master. Sixteen cauldrons later, Harry was finished and thanking Merlin that it had been a small class.

"Um, s-sir?" he stuttered out

"what is it, boy?" Snape said 'boy' like an infliction

"a-about th-hat que-estion I wanted t-to ask ea-arlier?" he managed once again.

"For merlin's sake, stop stuttering! And besides that, why should I answer any questions of yours, boy?" Snape enquired, rather impolitely.

"Don't call me that!" Harry could not handle the familiar taunt any longer.

"And why shouldn't I, boy, when after all, I am a teacher, and you a student?" Snape intoned dangerously.

"sorry, sir. Uncle Vernon calls me that when I've made a Mistake." he whispered, all the fight gone out of him

"a mistake? What in gods name is that meant to mean? Don't try and confuse me, Mr. Potter!"

"A Mistake" he explained, confused himself "is when you do something bad enough to be locked in your cupboard, sir"

"Cupboard Mr. Potter? Why would someone lock me in a cupboard?" he inquired.

Harry admitted it seemed rather silly to imagine the tall scary man in front of him locked in a cupboard, but perhaps he had never been as bad as Harry.

"If you'd done something bad, sir"

"bad?"

"Freak stuff, sir."

"Hmm. You are dismissed Mr. Potter! And your detention for tomorrow is at six. If you are late again, I will refer you to the headmaster!"

Harry ran out as fast as his legs could carry him, leaving professor Snape with a headache and a sudden, violent comparison between the boy who had just left and an eleven year old Severus Snape

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Severus sat that night in a chair by the fire in his office, charmed always to glow emerald green and nursing a large glass of fire-whiskey. Many would put the green down to Slytherin values, but Albus Dumbledore knew better.

"Still pondering, my boy?" Albus enquired, stepping from the shadows.

"Please don't call me that, I am a grown man, still in possession of some dignity." Snape reasoned, somewhat pleadingly.

"Ah, but you will always be a child to me, Severus. You are after all, not yet thirty years of age."

"Everyone will always be a child to you, Albus. Everyone but the one person who you should consider youngest of all, but you do not. Why didn't you check on him, Albus? We will never win! Not when our boy who lived believes himself worthy of being locked in a cupboard for doing 'freak things'!"

"A cupboard? Are you quite sure Severus? Petunia would nev-"

"-petunia? Are you mad? Or have you simply gone insane in your latter years, to put him with her!"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean. Petunia is his closest relative, and therefore he is protected best in her home."

"Yes, he is" Snape admitted reluctantly "from a dormant madman, who may, or may not return within his lifetime! He is not safe from her! She hates all forms of magic, Albus, and her own sister!"

"I very much doubt that he is in any real danger from her. Leave it be Severus, he is fine."

Snape sighed, knowing full well that he had as good as lost, and began, once again to stare into the fire, avoiding nightmares of the last time he saw the eyes that held such green fire.

"You did what!"

If harry had not been quite so near to fainting from shock at his own actions, he would have found her alarm funny.

"I-I told him to stop calling me boy. Loudly."

Ron, however, did not seem to have any such qualms.

"You shouted at the bat? Wicked!"

"Ronald! This is serious!"

"Whatever Herman. Hey Fred! George! Come listen what Harry did!"

Harry cringed. In his eyes, this was becoming too much of a regular occurrence. People would start to believe he liked it soon.

"What made you do it Harry? You could be suspended!"

"Well I wasn't, ok? I have another detention tonight though."

"Just the one-" "-Harry?-" "-he must like you!"

Harry shuddered. A large part of him was sure that the twins did their party trick purely to freak out the 'ickle firsties'

"not really. I think he hates me too much to expel me. For all I know, he could hand me over to filch."

Dramatic winces from the twins punctuated the gruesome thoughts of all present, doing nothing for Harry's mood.

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"Early, Mr. potter?"

"Sorry sir."

"No need to be sorry, potter. I am but a little surprised."

"Are you going to send me to filch, sir?"

"Filch? Why would I send you to filch? That would serve little else but to encourage him. No, you are more help here. I want you to help me document the ingredients in the school potion stores."

The apparent good mood frightened Harry more than any glare ever could, because aunt petunia being happy more often than not meant that she had found a new way to 'deal' with him.

"You will go into the cupboard, Mr. Potter, and tell me how much of what is on each shelf. Don't look so alarmed Mr. Potter. Even you are not so dull witted as to misunderstand a printed label, surely?"

The thought of messing up was not what had scared Harry so badly, but the word cupboard. The thought of a teacher who hated him so, having access to his worst fear?  
>Terrifying.<p>

"Mr. Potter? Mr. Potter! Do pay attention! Now enter the cupboard and begin. Speak clearly and do not break anything, or lord knows what might happen to you."

Harry crept into the dark cupboard and looked about. There was enough light to look about and see the labels, which was just as well, because they had not yet learnt a lighting spell. It was not so very bad. The smell was not the same, but Harry's desire to escape could not be fought, and he was about to ask the professor if he could do something else, anything else. When there was a loud

#creeeeeaaaaakk#

somewhere above his head. A blur of motion. The door slammed shut and almost immediately...

(((((((get in there you freak! Teach you to do funny things to my dudders!))))))))

(((((((((I told you! I told you, boy! No funny business!)))))))))

(((((((((Freak!))))))))))  
>((((((((Thump.))))))))<br>((((((((Thump.)))))))))  
>(((((((((Thump!)))))))))<p>

((((((((((((((((((((Wake up!))))))))))))))))))))  
>(((Up!)))<p>

(Up!)

"Wake up!"

"Mnh? Srry nt ptuna sta Brekkie sn k?"

"Mr. Potter? You are awake at long last!" a voice with a round edge to it that betrayed a lifetime of looking after people answered him. She was exactly the sort that his aunt despised, mostly due to questions. So Harry smiled and opened his eyes to see Madam Pomfrey fussing over him, and muttering things like

"yes, yes perfectly in order, but what about..."

"ah, perfect. Still, makes no sense why..."

"so lucky that Severus pushed him out of harms way..."

"-what, miss! Who pushed me out the way of what?" Harry was lost. Totally lost.

"Of course, I nearly forgot! You won't remember much. Side affect of the calming potion, I'm afraid. Well, he can explain it better than me!" and with a whoosh, swung the curtain to one side revealing the potions master, bandaged to the nines and still managing to look ridiculously imposing.

"Don't look at me like that!"

"Like what, sir?"

"Like an invalid, potter!"

"I wasn't, sir. I was going to ask... Well..."

"What potter? Spit it out!"

"What happened, sir?"

"I pushed you out the way of a bag of firewood, kicking away the cauldron that was keeping the door open. Any questions?"

"um, why?"

"You being the boy who lived, and dying on my time? I'd never work again! Probably be sent to Azkaban too. "

"But it wouldn't be your fault!"

"I'm glad you think so, but the school governors would not be so forgiving. What was the question by the way?"

The non- sequiter was so spectacular, that Harry had to ask what the man was on about.

"Which question, sir? I didn't ask a question."

"The one that started this, potter. The first question"

Harry's confusion cleared.

"I-I w-wanted to ask about my mum, sir"

"your mother? Why would you ask me about your mother?"

"Hagrid said you knew her before she married my father, and no one else knew anything real about her"

Snape knew perfectly what Harry meant by 'real' He had suffered the same frustration after the death of his own mother, although the problem was more that no-one knew  
>anything at all about her.<p>

"Yes, I knew her. And I will tell you some of what I know. But first, why were you so scared of me to start with? The rumours the Weasley twins spread could have not have permeated that strongly, could they?"

"No sir, it's just... Well... My aunt petunia doesn't like to talk about my mother, sir"

Snape knew all about that problem too. His father was almost always too angry to talk about his mother. Well, that or passed out drunk.

"Yes, your aunt petunia. I think you might be better protected elsewhere. I will need to talk to professor Dumbledore, however."

Snape did not, could not, mention that he was considering kidnap to stop petunia from ruining another childhood. Harry's beaming was now making Snape's eyes burn so he said;

"Calm yourself, child. Or I will not tell you about your mother."

It was an empty threat in its entirety, but Harry did not know that, and he sobered up quickly.

"Now, Lilly was my best friend for years; she liked pistachio ice cream and kicking up leaves and when she...

fin

a/n flames are for grills and explosions


End file.
